Return of Pirate Arthur
by VampirePaladin
Summary: When Alfred is trapped by an alliance of nations and even Arthur's own government won't help, it is time for Arthur to help him by returning to a life of piracy.
1. Chapter 1

Note: I do not own Hetalia. I do not own the characters. This story, however, is mine.

England sat at his desk inside his country home. The only light came in through the large windows. These particular windows faced west and let in the light of the setting sun. A cup of tea was within easy reach. The tea had been cold for hours now. The nation was more interested in the large folder of papers that sat in front of him. The topics of these papers all had one thing in common and that was America.

There was a short, soft knock at his office door. England's eyes slowly moved to his grandfather clock. It was later than it should have been. The one who was knocking softly, but incessantly at his door was supposed to have been there an hour ago.

"Come in," he called out. His voice was level and calm.

The door opened to reveal a familiar face framed with blond hair. The purple eyes were partially hidden by glasses. This other nation looked so much like America, but he wasn't America. He was Canada. A few weeks ago England would have been hard pressed to remember what Canada's military uniform looked like. Now, he found himself facing Canada in that uniform. Canada quietly walked into the room and sat in the chair in front of England's desk. There were minor cuts and bruises all over him. Canada seemed paler then usual but there was something different in his face. His jaw was set, his lips were firmly pressed together and the stare he leveled at the elder nation was accusatory.

"I have received reports that you are harboring refugees from America as well as a good sized portion of America's military. I have also received reports that your military has been launching attacks against the Militarily/Economically Aligned Nations. This has to stop."

"No," Canada said. His voice was soft but it did not tremble or shake like it would when he normally disagreed with someone.

"No?" England's voice did not change at all. He was making sure it sounded just as level and calm as before.

"He's my brother. I'm not going to just let someone take Alfred away from me."

"The Commonwealth of Nations are allies with the Militarily/Economically Aligned Nations and you are a member of the Commonwealth. So this stops before you end up like your brother."

"I'm sorry, Arthur," and Canada really did look sorry, "but my mind, my people's minds, they are made up," Canada stood up from his chair. "I am not going to turn over any of Alfred's people. I won't stop my attacks. And if I have to fight the Commonwealth too... then I will," Canada turned and began to walk toward the door. He seemed to be trembling just the slightest bit.

He didn't see the slightly sad smile England gave his back. Canada couldn't know how at that moment England was proud of him and slightly jealous. England wished he had the freedom to walk out that door with Canada and begin the plans to break through blockade and go help America.


	2. Chapter 2

England had been running low on food. So he found himself forced to go into town. He was not looking forward to it at all. He had opted to take public transportation instead of driving. If the headaches he had been having was any indication, a car would probably not be very useful. The situation ended up being even worst then he thought it would be.

It was raining again in London. No matter where he was in the city he could always hear a distant roar. If he tried, he could pretend it was the ocean, not hundreds, maybe thousands of his people. They were gathered around 10 Downing Street, Palace of Westminster and even Buckingham Palace. He knew what they wanted, they wanted the United Kingdom to enter the war and help America and Canada. The worst part was that his government, his boss, his queen, his military, England himself, all agreed with them. The problem was just that it was too great a risk. With France and Spain both being members of the Militarily/Economically Aligned Nations, if the United Kingdom entered it could easily plunge Europe into a third World War. They could just not be the ones to cause that.

As he walked down the street from his bus stop to the grocers, a week old newspaper got caught on his shoe. Being unable to kick it off, he was forced to bend down and remove it by hand. The headline caught his eye. It was about Canada leaving the Commonwealth. The article went on to talk about how, for the time being, the United Kingdom was severing all ties with the country for its support of America. When this article ran was about the time that the protests started.

Off in the distance he could hear the protestors singing "Yankee Doodle." England had hated that song since the French and Indian War. He hated it even more when America had taken to singing it during the American Revolution. What type of moron took a song that called himself an idiot, called his army a bunch of country bumpkins and his general incompetent and turn it into a song of patriotism? The same idiot who just had to rush to the defense of Taiwan and South Korea.

England frowned as he balled up the newspaper and tossed it toward a rubbish bin. He completely did not care at all that he missed. He tried to think of something, anything, to drown out the voices of his people. He thought of The War of the Worlds and all the things the narrator saw in it. Those thoughts led to America's excitement after he read the book. England forced himself to walk faster down the street. He had to think about something that wouldn't lead back to thoughts of just what was happening to Alfred and Matthew on the other side of the ocean.


	3. Chapter 3

It seemed to take England forever to actually get to the store, buy what he needed and return to his home. England let out a soft sigh when he saw his home. He could concentrate on what he needed to do and not what he wanted to do. However, when he came to his house he saw several men unloading boxes. One man with a clipboard was overseeing them.

"Are you Arthur Kirkland?" the man with a clipboard asked when he saw England.

"Yes, I am."

"I have several packages for you. Would you mind signing for them?"

"Of course," England took the clipboard and quickly signed his human name. "Who are they from?"

After having the clipboard returned, the man lifted a few pages and glanced down before speaking, "They are from a Alfred Jones. In the States. The packages had to go through Canada and then Ireland before they got here. Why they took two months to get here. There is a letter too."

"I see," England could feel his heart begin to beat faster. Two months ago was when China had attacked Taiwan and South Korea. It was when the two nations asked for help and only America, with his idiotic obsession with being a hero, went to help them.

England unlocked the front door and let the delivery men bring the boxes inside his home. There were more boxes then he could easily count and they were big. The entire truck was filled with boxes from America. England left the men alone as he went to his office. As soon as the door was closed he slit the envelope open with a pen knife.

_England,_

_I think China and the other members of MEAN (did you notice "Militarily/Economically Aligned Nations" spell that out?) are just a bit angry at me for helping Taiwan and South Korea. Of course nothing bad can happen, cause I'm the hero and all. But just in case I thought I'd send a few things over to your place for safekeeping. Don't worry, one of the boxes has an overall inventory (I forget which). But each box also has a list of what's in it too._

_America_

_P.S. Let's go get hamburgers next time we see each other!_

England returned to his living room to find it filled with boxes and the men gone. He opened the closest box to him and found himself face to face with a portrait of George Washington. Another box was filled with Victorian dresses. The inventory said they belonged to Mary Todd Lincoln. The model for the Starship Enterprise was in the next box. A few of the boxes contained items that belonged to Alfred personally, but most were what would be considered priceless heirlooms to the American people. England could not help but shake his head when he realized that America had sent him the Declaration of Independence and the American Constitution via UPS.

It was getting late and England probably should have eaten and go to bed, but he could not help himself. He had to open every single box. He had to know everything America had thought so important that he had sent them to him for safekeeping.

Finally, there was only one box left. He ripped it open. A part of him was relieved that he had already gone through all the other boxes and this was the last. That relief was completely gone when he saw what was inside of it. England reached both his hands in and pulled out the first things they came into contact with. His hands were shaking. He had kept himself from falling apart for two months. Now the contents of this one box made him fall to his knees. He held two of the wooden soldiers close to his chest and he began to cry.

The original model used for the Starship Enterprise in the original Star Trek series is in the Air & Space Museum in the Smithsonian. During World War 2, England sent several items to the U.S. for safekeeping encase the Germans invaded. Among those items were the Crown Jewels.


	4. Chapter 4

England's body shook as he sat on his living room floor. He attempted to force himself to stop crying, but he just couldn't. There was no one else around to keep the mask up for. He must have spent an hour there, hugging the toy soldiers as if it would somehow protect their owner.

"Arthur, are you okay?" a small voice asked him.

England looked up. There was a slight flush of embarrassment from being caught doing something so ungentlemanly. His expression softened when he saw a slight form sitting on the edge of the box that contained the Hope Diamond. She had long black hair, a beautiful red dress, lily white skin and a pair of wings on her back that went from purple to a pale rose at the tips. He tried to smile at the pixie while tears still flowed down his face.

"I honestly don't know, Rosalyn."

"I'm sure Alfred will be all right."

"I'm not worried about that git," England huffed.

"Of course you aren't," she said as she flew over to his shoulder and patted him gently. She wasn't going to call England on his blatant lie right then and there.

England's tears finally began to let up and he regained a measure of his normal composure. He was taking deep, controlled breathes. It would not do him any good to begin crying again. He was surprised to note that his perpetual headache had lessened after crying.

"Rosalyn, I-I need to ask a favor of you and the others." He could not look the pixie in the face.

"Of course, Arthur. What do you need?"

"Come with me," he led Rosalyn to his office. Once he was there, he gently set down the toy soldiers he was still holding and pulled paper and pen from his desk. He began to write in as small and neat a print as he was capable. The less paper the notes took, the less likely one of the other countries would notice a letter being carried by an invisible messenger. He had two terse notes written in a few minutes. "This one goes to the spirits in America and this one goes to Tony." There was obvious distaste in his voice when he mentioned a certain alien that lived with America.

Rosalyn nodded to England. "Don't worry. We'll get the notes there." Honestly, she and the others had been expecting England to make a request like this any day now. "I heard from Whale that Coyote has been following Alfred around. They are looking out for him, even if he doesn't see them." She hoped that information would help comfort England just a little bit.

He smiled at his friend. "Thanks, Rosalyn." He waved his goodbye to the pixie as she held the notes tight and flew out the window.

Once she was out of sight he glanced at the toys. One of them was staring back at him. England let out a loud and particularly vulgar curse as it beat him in the staring contest. He could not take it anymore. He just had to know that America was all right, that he hadn't been captured or worse. England picked up one of the toy soldiers as he strode out of the room. It had been so considerate of America to send a personal item that England could use to cast a scrying spell.


	5. Chapter 5

England was going to make sure that he got the spell absolutely perfect. He read the book three times. He double checked all the symbols and he made sure the wooden soldier was not even a millimeter off of where it was supposed to be. He began to chant ancient words. The air began to change. It felt like he was being shocked, suffocated and drowned all at the same time. His vision moved from the soldier and down to the basin of water. The water become a cloudy red, like it was being filled with mud from a river. The water resolved itself into a picture with a sepia tint to it. He could see buildings, people and he could hear.

There were two children. They must have been siblings. Both of them were girls. The younger one, couldn't have been more then five, clutched a stuffed pink rabbit to her chest. Both girls were ducked next to an abandoned vehicle. The car had the Statue of Liberty on its license plate. The older girl held her sister's hand tighter every time an explosion rocked the streets. Tears streamed down the younger's face and the older was trying to look brave, but was still shaking.

"Where are your parents?" A blond man in an military uniform called out as he ran to the two. "Why aren't you at the evac point?"

"Mom told us to wait for her here."

The man knelt down to be at eye level with the girls. He gave them an easy smile that came naturally to him even in a place like this. "It is going to get really dangerous here really soon. I'm going to take you two some place safe where you can meet up with your Mom, okay?" The elder child gave him a small nod. "My name is Alfred. What are yours?"

"Noelle," the younger side with a voice muffled by toy rabbit.

"I'm Annabelle."

"Don't worry Noelle, I'm just going to pick you up cause I can run faster then you," America slung his rifle over his shoulder, lifted Noelle, carried her with one arm and held the hand of Annabelle with his other.

They began to run. England found himself leaning closer to the water. He could hear the sounds of gunfire and the angry march of boots. America wasn't looking behind him, but England could see. Through the smoky streets he could see the distant movement of soldiers. Silently he urged them to run faster. The three were running to a barricade that had men in green uniforms and men in back uniforms. They were about a hundred feet away when Noelle dropped her stuffed rabbit.

"BUNNY!" The girl began to scream hysterically. America ignored the scream until they were through and he handed the girl to one of the men in black. Now, England could see that the man wore a uniform that identified him as a member of the NYPD.

America glanced over his shoulder and his eyes widened when he saw the doll. Before anyone else could say anything, America had dashed out from behind the safety of the barricade. He made a mad dash and scooped up the toy. When America was running back England saw the sniper. England could hear someone screaming for America to duck. He realized it was him. A brown and lanky form was suddenly right in front of America's legs. The young nation tripped over it and began falling forward as the bullet whizzed by where his head should have been. He was up again and running safely back into the barricade.

England could have sworn that Coyote was laughing as America handed Noelle her stuffed rabbit.


	6. Chapter 6

England stood rigidly as he continued to watch America. The combined military and police held off a wave of Spanish soldiers. The civilians were huddled in the middle with large metal trucks parked around them, providing a bit more protection. NYPD cars and armored vehicles were dotted around them.

America's watch began to beep. He had to bring it close to his face in to see it in the poor lighting. He began to frown until he heard the sound of loud diesel engines. The noise was growing louder. Whatever was making the noise, there were a lot of them and they were getting closer.

A huge grin suddenly split his face as he yelled, "Give our friends something to listen to!"

Somewhat folksy music began to crackle over loud speakers. England winced at just how loud it was. An acoustic guitar could clearly be heard as the lead instrument. A man's voice began to sing along "Oh! The good old hockey game," America grabbed a pair of binoculars from a nearby soldier. "Is the best game you can name;" He was scanning the darkness in the direction of the roaring engines. "And the best game you can name," America had found whatever he was looking for since he began focusing his binoculars. "Is the good old Hockey game!"

England could finally see the large trucks hurtling toward the American barricade at breakneck speeds. He could not make out much, but he thought he saw loudspeakers on the roof of the lead truck. The men and women at the barricade had their rifles pointed at it.

"C'mon," America mumbled, "give the countersign."

"Take me out to the ball game, Take me out with the crowd;" the music drifted back from the oncoming trucks, "Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jack," people began to scramble to remove the barricade, "I don't care if I ever get back." The barricade was gone and the trucks were in. They stopped, barely missing one of the parked police cars.

"Okay, everyone who is NOT military or a first responder start moving the supplies into our trucks," America yelled at the civilians. The men, women and children began to take food, blankets, clothing, ammo, medical supplies and many more supplies out of the new trucks and into the waiting ones.

The driver of the lead truck pushed his door open. He barely had his feet on the ground before America tackled him with a hug.

"You made it!" America laughed as he hugged Canada. "I heard a radio transmission, they were increasing patrols. I didn't think you'd make it through all right."

"Look at the trucks," Canada said with a small smile. Painted on the sides of the trucks was the gold emblem of the French Army. Black duck tape covered up the maple leaf and crossed swords. "The Spanish and Chinese soldiers couldn't tell Canadian French apart from regular French. I just told them we were French reinforcements and they let us drive right through."

"Matty, sometimes you are a genius."

"I have my moments. Oh, I did make one special stop on the way here." Canada reached back into the cab and pulled out a McDonald's bag.

"You are the best brother EVER! Do you know how long it has been since my last hamburger?" America laughed. After giving his brother another bone breaking hug, he got to work on his present. America was eating his hamburger unusually slowly and his eyes were closed, savoring every bite.

England could feel himself getting light headed. He would not turn away from the images. He continued to watch as the brothers talked and discussed military plans. Canada would be taking part of the civilians, including all of the children, back to Canada. One third of the NYPD would be going with them. Everyone else would be going further inland with America. England watched as the supplies were finished being moved from the Canadian convoy to the American one and they began to load the human cargo.

England's vision began to grow blurry. He struggled to continue watching. Magic was a very draining activity even under the best of circumstances. Between the preparation, double checking and just the amount of time he had spent watching it was now well into the morning. He also had never actually getting around to eating dinner the previous night. The exhaustion of magic and the lack of food and sleep finally caught up to him. England fell to the cold, stone floor, unconscious.

Notes

1. Gah I was ust 63 characters over the limit!

2. The song America uses the sign is "That Good Old Hockey Game" which is a Canadian song and the unofficial hockey theme.

.com/watch?v=uZWxErEbQkY

3. Canada is using the song "Take Me Out To the Ball Park"

4. The symbol for the French Army that Canada had put on his trucks is this: .org/wikipedia/commons/b/b7/Armoiries_r%C3%A9publique_fran%C3%

I had no clue how to describe that.


	7. Chapter 7

Warm sunlight hit England's face. He could feel the softness of mattress and sheets beneath him. Images began to race through his mind. The last thing he could remember was scrying in the basement. England slowly opened his eyes and confirmed that he was in his room. He turned his head from the bright light as he tried to remember going to bed. He couldn't.

He realized he could hear a female voice coming from downstairs. England slipped out of bed. He noted that someone had changed his clothing. Normally, he would not be seen in his bed clothes, but he was pretty sure he knew whose voice it was. His bare feet padded down the stairs.

Inside his kitchen he saw a woman with her back to the stairs. Her red hair was pulled into a bun, but it was threatening to come out at any moment. She wore casual clothing. There were smudges of dirt on it; she must have been cleaning. She was holding a terrified looking leprechaun up by the collar of his suit jacket.

"Ah don't see how it's any concern o his. Ain't like he writes or visits any time he wants anythin' but a fight."

"A-Ahm really sorry. Ireland jus' asked me ta see why England wasn't answerin' is phone. Normally, they'd be in a fight by now." The leprechaun noticed England over the woman's shoulder. "Ah, there is Mister England."

The woman looked over her shoulder at England. When the two pairs of green eyes met her scowl softened and she smiled briefly at him. Then she turned back to the still trembling leprechaun. "Go tell that bastard Finnegan that Arthur is still alive and ta stop stealin' my potatoes from my garden!" She let go. The leprechaun was running out the front door the second his feet were on the ground.

"Good morning, Aoife," England greeted his sister, North Ireland.

"As fer you," she said, turning, hands on her hips, "whit do ye think yer doin'? Goin' an castin' magic and then passing out. Yer lucky Rosalyn found ye. She went and got me."

England looked off to the side and mumbled, "Sorry." Between his siblings he got along best with North Ireland, though that really didn't say much. Still, she only usually started yelling at and getting angry with him when he did something very stupid. He had to admit, using magic until he passed out from exhaustion had been pretty stupid. "How long was I asleep?"

"Two days since I found you. Today's the world meeting. Do ye need me to go instead?"

"No, I'll be fine. I need to go… get ready. Thank you, Aoife."

"Sometimes yer as bad as the boy," she said with a laugh. "The boy" is what both she and Ireland had called America as a child. North Ireland smiled back at him before she turned back to the burnt potato pancakes she had been cooking.

As England walked back upstairs, an idea began to form in his head. It was one of those ideas that he normally would make cynical comments about and argue against if someone had suggested it to him. He went back to his office and pulled his hardly used laptop out of a drawer. After a few minutes he was accessing the computers of the Royal Air Force and the Royal Navy using his master passwords. He quickly found the information he needed. He now knew where the United States Air Force personnel who had been stranded in the United Kingdom were being detained. He also knew that the Royal Navy had a new ship that was a week away from completion in the dockyards of Liverpool.

England was smirking.

I apologize at my poor attempt at an Irish accent.


	8. Chapter 8

England sat in his designated chair at the word meeting. Just hours before he had talked to Rosalyn and gotten replies to both his notes. Tony's had been mostly filled with the words "limey bastard" repeatedly, but the alien did at least say that he was helping America. The other told him what he had already seen from his magic, that the supernatural creatures of North America were also protecting him.

He was wearing a suit. About half the nations were dressed like him, the rest were wearing their military uniforms. England had been surprised to see Canada there. The younger nation was one of the ones in military uniform. A small gasp of pain escaped his lips when Italy gave him a hug. Taiwan and South Korea were sitting next to Japan. All three were glaring at China, who was speaking.

"If Japan is remaining neutral in this, then you should turn over the Seventh Fleet, aru."

"China-san, this started when you attacked South Korea and Taiwan. If I turn the Americans over then what is to stop you from attacking myself next? When I consider just how many went to help Taiwan, I could not expect assistance from any of the other nations." After World War II the Japanese military had been cut down to just enough for self defense. America had taken over for most of Japan's military protection. From what England had understood the last orders that had been sent to America's Seventh Fleet had been to remain in Asia and continue to provide assistance to Japan, Taiwan and South Korea.

"We are all adults, let us be reasonable, da. If you all just become one with Russia then none of this would be a problem," Russia said with a saccharine sweet smile. The funny thing was that Russia was neutral in the current conflict.

"Italy," Spain changed the subject before there could be any more escalation between China and his siblings, "I would like it if you gave us the United States Sixth Fleet."

"Sixth Fleet?" Italy looked around, confused. His brother leaned forward and began whispering into his ear. Italy nodded as he listened. "Ve, they already left."

"Wh-what do you mean they already left?"

"They said they were going to the British Isles."

Suddenly all eyes were on England. "I know nothing about this." This was as much news to him as it was to everyone else. The surprise on his face was genuine, but he managed to conceal a smile. "Ireland, this is your doing isn't it?" England screamed at his brother.

"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't," the red headed nation said. He had his feet up on the table and a cocky grin on his face.

"How did you get a FLEET to the islands without me noticing it!"

"Maybe ye are jus' too short ta actually see a whole fleet, shrimp." England had been planning on somehow starting a fight with his brother. However, Ireland had managed to push the right buttons and so when England dived across the table and began to trade blows with his brother he really did want to beat the living daylight out of him.

"Meet at pub," he still managed to whisper.

Ireland's eyes widened in surprise for a second. He gave a wicked grin before he slammed England into the table and punched him in the stomach.

The United States Navy is divided into fleets. The Seventh Fleet is very large and is based out of Japan. The Sixth Fleet is for the Mediterranean. It only has three permanent ships but ships are regularly transferred into and out of it, so it has no definite size.


	9. Chapter 9

The rest of the world meeting had not been very productive. England had been straddling Ireland and was punching him repeatedly in the head while Ireland had been responding in kind when they had finally been pulled apart. France, China and Spain were attempting to get the other nations to help them. Canada was trying to garner assistance for America. No one had convinced anyone to do anything.

After the meeting had ended England had gone to a local pub named Greensleeves. He sat in a stool at the bar for an hour. A half full glass of water sat in front of him. Normally, he despised going to the pub and drinking water, but it was hard enough dealing with his brother when sober. So, England had set himself to not drink until after he had finished with this meeting.

Ireland strode in through the front doors. His loud, obnoxious laugh was grating on England's gentlemanly ears. Ireland had already removed his suit jacket, tie and had undone his top two buttons. He unceremoniously dropped his jacket on the stool next to England and then sat on top of his jacket. England could not help but think that Ireland was part of the reason for America's atrocious manners.

"Ya want somethin'?"

"I want your help."

"An' why should I help ya?"

"Two reasons: One, it will help Alfred and I know you like him. The other," England hesitated, "you get to blow up my property."

"Sign me up," Ireland said before ordering his first drink.

England began to outline his plan as he handed over a CD. It had all the information that Ireland would need to free the USAF personnel from the barracks that the RAF had imprisoned them in. Ireland's people would sneak onto the base one week from today and release the Americans. While England's military was distracted by the escape, England himself would be stealing the Royal Navy's newest ship with a skeleton crew of volunteers.

After hearing the plan, Ireland gave another merry laugh. "So ye wan' me to help ye commit treason agains' yerself. An' wha' are ye planning' on doin' with the ship?"

"Piracy," England said it as plainly as if he just said what the weather was like.

Ireland laughed but then he stopped when he noticed that England was not joking. "It isn' like how it use ta be. Ah mean if ye get caught ye can be executed witout a trial."

"I know."

"And ye'd be an unlawful combatant. Means Geneva wouldn't apply to ye."

"I already know all about this, Finnegan." England scowled. He was starting to get annoyed. There was no reason for Ireland to remind him of what he was already well aware of. He also knew that he had to do this. The people of his country were demanding that they help. He couldn't do that through any of the normal official means. So he would do it through the only other way open to him. A tiny voice in his head told him that he would be doing this even if his people hadn't been demanding it.

"Two pins' bitter," Ireland called to the barkeep. "My treat. Though ya shouldn' drink anythin' else. Since ya such a light weight."

"Hmph, you are the lightweight." England sneered, rising to the drinking challenge.

"We'll see, shrimp."


	10. Chapter 10

I would like to dedicate this chapter, the first one written in a year, to jedishampoo and binnin. The only reason I didn't abandon this fic is because of the nice messages the two of you sent me.

~Line Break ~

Texas lay on the upper bunk. Being locked inside the barracks with the other Air Force personnel at RAF Lakenheath was not how he had envisioned his time overseas. His hazels eyes drifted over the tiles of the ceiling. By now he had memorized the exact number of spots in each square. There were one hundred thirty-two.

Everything had happened so fast. First, they get reports that China had attacked Taiwan to force them to rejoin. North Korea then made a quick alliance with China and then they attacked South Korea. The shock had been when France and Spain had announced their treaties with China and the existence of MEAN. Any country that interfered would have to deal with them as well. Texas wondered what France and Spain were getting out of such a treaty. Then America decided to respond to those old treaties he had with Taiwan and South Korea. The military was mobilized and sent to help support the two. He did not know much more beyond that. About then was when the Snowdrops had shut them down and locked them in their barracks. The worst part had been that the Royal Air Force Police really didn't seem too thrilled by what they were doing. They had gone to their barracks without a fuss. It was better then being locked up in a prison at least.

Texas sat up and turned to the side, letting his legs swing over the edge. Airman DeSantos was sleeping in the lower bunk. He dropped to the floor, almost slipping in his sock covered feet. He slipped on the sneakers he used for PT. It wasn't worth putting his combat boots on just to use the head.

He quietly walked up the isle that separated the two rows of bunk beds. A flashlight was shined in his face. He nodded to the man on fire watch. Even if they didn't have firearms any more, they still kept a man on guard duty. Texas kicked the doorstop out of the way as he slipped into the dark bathroom and flicked on the lights.

After he took care of his business, he was washing his hands when he heard a door slam. Texas jumped a foot in the air. He quickly wiped his hands off and started marching out of the bathroom. He was going to put the moron that slammed the door on his face. Texas stopped with his hand on the door. All of his men were in the barracks. The Snowdrops always tried to be polite when checking on them. His heart pounded inside of him. Yanking the door open, he stepped out to find the fire watch staring dumb founded at a red haired man.

"Was' the matter Yank? Never see' a wee jailbreak before?" Ireland said.

Texas stared with his mouth open for seven more seconds. Then he grinned. "EVERYBODY UP," the once Republic of Texas roared.

~Line Break~

Notes!

1. I apologize for previous formatting errors. They are from me copy and pasting them from their original form on livejournal.

2. "Snowdrop" is a nickname for the Royal Air Force Police.

3. PT is physical training.

4. Texas was a country for ten years.

5. The last chapter was actually written over a year ago, so please excuse while I get into the swing of things again.

6. This chapter is un-betaed. I wanted to get this out as a small gift to people that asked me to continue writing this story.

Advertisement!

I am looking for people to Beta. I really would like someone who is good at grammar and someone who is actually from the UK. While I do try my best to write British English, I would like to have someone double check. You get absolutely no pay for this service. But you do get to read chapters early and get ideas bounced off of.


	11. Chapter 11

England could see the ship through his binoculars. The almost complete frigate was moored in the harbor, silhouetted by the night sky. She was sea worthy. From what he could see, it looked like she had most of her guns. This ship was state of the art. She had the smallest radar cross section of any ship in the Royal Navy. Her maneuverability was as good as almost any sailing ship. Most importantly, she would be fast.

The were fewer guards then was normal. He had known before hand that the guards would be light tonight. There were three reasons for this. First, it was just naturally a lull in the number of guards scheduled. Second, he had gotten about a hundred men to join him, with some of them were the regularly scheduled guards. Third, there was an accident off shore when about a dozen Irish fishing ships had decided to play a game of football between vessels and crashed dangerously close to the British coast. England had his suspicions about who had been responsible for that minor catastrophe.

His eyes glanced down at his analog watch. It was time for him to get moving. He stowed away his binoculars inside his coat pocket. The uniformed man was completely unaware of England approaching behind him. All of the man's attention was focused on a couple of men that were completely pissed. They kept on screaming about the Everton Tigers over and over again. England's sweaty palm clamped down on handle in his pocket. When he was right behind the guard he pulled the blackjack out and struck him in the head. The poor man fell like a ton of breaks.

The drunkards, actually some of his accomplices, quickly checked to make sure the man was fine before tying him up. They went off to subdue the other guards before anyone would be the wiser. England pulled out his mobile and dialed in a quick number.

"This is Captain Kirk. It is time to weigh anchor."

"Understood." The conversation was over that quickly. In minutes the crew would be here. They were scattered at different pubs around the city since a hundred random men milling about together in the middle of the night would have been a tad bit suspicious looking.

He pocketed his mobile and began to walk up the gangplank to his waiting ship. He let out a sigh as he feet touched deck. It felt good to be on board of a ship again. He let his hand run lightly against a railing as he walked. Soon the lifeless metal would beat with a pulse all her own.

Footsteps began to pound up the gangplank behind him. The men he had persuaded to give up their careers in the Royal Navy came up in groups of twos and threes. Each went to the area he specialized in. Engineers when down to check on the engine. The doctor went to the infirmary. There was even a cook who was going to go check the galley before helping wherever he would be needed.

A few minutes later he found himself on the bridge. He could feel the vibrations through his shoes and up his legs as the young girl took her first shuddering breathes of life. She would be a good ship, he could tell.

"Captain Kirk, we are ready," a young officer said with a salute.

As he stood there he made a mental vow to never give America the satisfaction of knowing that he had adopted "Captain Kirk" as an alias to steal his own ship. The brat would make his life a living hell if he found out.

"Cast off lines. The Thunder Child is going to sea." He smirked as he named his ship.

~Line Break~

Notes:

1. The Everton Tigers is a basketball team based in Liverpool.

2. When I saw "football" I mean "soccer". Of course since this is an England chapter I'd use the British term.

3. England holds the world record for most Star Trek cosplayers in a single place.


	12. Chapter 12

There was a polite rap at the front door of England's house. A few seconds later there was another one on the old wooden door. Hazel eyes stared out from under prominent sandy blonde eyebrows in concern. He reached into his pocket and took out the spare key. The door was unlocked and he opened it with a smooth pull. He might be concerned, but he wasn't going to be hasty. The last time something like this happened his brother had just been hung over.

He began to search the house. Why were there so many boxes all over the place? England hadn't learnt to use Ebay, had he? No sign of England on the first floor. He moved upstairs. No England there either. That left the attic and the basement. No sign of the man in either place.

Sighing, he went to England's office. He had heard what had happened when North Ireland had found him unconscious. All of the siblings had heard about what had happened between England and Ireland. After all, the only thing more amusing then England and Ireland fighting was when the two Irelands tried to drink each other under the table.

England's office was in a rare state of disorder. The nation shook his head. His brother must have been in a hurry. There was all kinds of files of the Royal Navy, docks, ships. Everything was so sea oriented.

"God damn it, England." He had seen this before. All the signs had been there. His brother had gone back to piracy, hadn't he? Why did England have to act like a little kids sometimes? What part of "piracy is not the answer to all your maritime woes" did he not understand?

He straightened up the office and then took a seat behind the desk. He would have to call the other members of the UK to tell them that England was AWOL. He would also have to order a complete inventory of both the Royal Navy and commercial ships. It was important he find out what exactly his brother took. Without England around, responsibility for the UK ultimately fell to him.

First things first, Wales reached inside the desk for some paper. If he was going to be stuck in charge of things here, then he was going to finally add his damn dragon to the Union Flag. Honestly, what hurt most is that he wasn't asked to come along.


	13. Chapter 13

England stood on the bridge of the Thunder Child. It had been hours since they had stolen her. He would have to leave the bridge for awhile to rest. First, he had to give very precise instructions to his first officer. These very detailed instructions were of the utmost importance.

"If a group of mermaids start swimming up alongside us then leave them alone. Unless of course they start sing, then play loud music to drown them out. Oh, if a blue box shows up any where on board with the words 'police public call box' on it then don't stop to investigate. Just throw the damn thing overboard. Did you get all of that?"

"Aye, sir," the first mate said while purposely keeping a blank face. No one would question Arthur's abilities to captain. Everyone questioned his sanity when he started talking about the fairies and other such nonsense.

England was finally satisfied as he left the bridge. He made his way down to the galley. A nice cup of tea would help him relax. Normally, he would be outraged to use tea bags. Considering they had stolen the ship and it was not instant, he was not going to complain. He would still make sure to get something a bit better on their first chance to make port for supplies.

He did not want to be cooped up inside just yet. So he took the foam cup that held the precious liquid and went out on deck. He would swear up and down before the queen herself that tea on board a ship always tasted slightly of the sea. It did not bother him. In fact, he found that he somewhat liked it.

As he drank his tea he thought about the Thunder Child. Yes, she was technically advanced, but the question was whether or not she would be an agreeable ship. Would she keep going even as she was taking on water? Or would she fail him right at the crucial moment? Ships had personalities. He learnt that years ago. They could be just as temperamental or determined as human or even as any nation.

He silently smiled and took another sip of his tea. What if there were others like himself, but for ships? Maybe, just like they had nation meetings, the ships of their respective navies all existed in human shape and met as well. He wondered what the other ships would say when they realized one of their own was missing. The Royal Ark would be furious. Maybe, one of the sailors that had helped him steal her was none other then the Thunder Child herself. That was funny thought, a nation stealing a ship from his own navy with the help of the ship itself. He allowed the train of though to continue. He finished his tea as he thought of how different ships would look if they were human.

England went to his quarters. They were the largest on board, but still not that big. A black cloak was hanging on the back of his chair. A little magic was in order before bed. He took a piece of chalk and traced out the mystic runs onto the floor. Once that was done he put on the heavy black material. England cleared his mind as he began to cast, eyes rarely glancing at the book in hand.

"Pie Jesu Domine, dona eis requiem."

He could feel a presence. This was not supposed to be for summoning.

"Pie Jesu Domine, dona eis requiem."

There may have been something in here before they set sail. That must be it.

"Pie Jesu Domine, dona eis requiem."

The doors to the wardrobe flew open. A bundle of blue and white fell out. It landed right one top of his runes. The heap stood up. This must be a nightmare. He must have gone to sleep early and this was not happening.

"I claim this ship as property of the Principality of Sealand!"

England did the only thing he could do in such a situation. He slammed the book into his face. Maybe it would wake him up.

~Line Break~

Notes: You know, I really should learn how to do normal line breaks. The chant England is saying translates to "Blessed Lord Jesus, grant them rest." It is a funeral mass. I was making a reference to Monty Python and the Holy Grail where monks would chant that phrase and then hit themselves in the head with boards. The monks in Monty Python were references to how some groups of monks believed that if they abused themselves they could stop the black plague. Sadly, their open wounds merely made it spread even more.


	14. Chapter 14

She nervously swept her pale bangs back from her face. Her strong hands returned to slowly shredding the handkerchief that sat on her lap. Despite being padded, the chair she rested on seemed to poke her in uncomfortable places. Her blue pants had some dirt still caked onto them. Really, she was not dressed for this sort of meeting at all. She felt conspicuous compared to the elegant and expensive room she was in.

"I apologize for my tardiness, Mademoiselle Ukraine," France said as he swept into the room. He was a picture of style even in uniform. A red beret was on top of his golden locks. Having a camouflage uniform did not stop him from pairing it with a stylish, dark turtleneck that could be seen where the top button was undone.

"You said you wanted to meet with me?"

"Oui. You of course know the situation that myself, Spain, China and North Korea are in?"

She nodded. It was impossible not to know the situation.

"I have come to propose an alliance."

"An alliance? I don't know about that…."

"Neither your brother nor your sister are involved with this conflict. We mostly need you for your resources. So there would be little risk to yourself, it might even improve your economy."

"I don't really like fighting," she said in a small voice.

"We also will fully fund the Shelter Implementation Plan. Non, we will work together to speed it up."

She looked up in surprise. Originally, she had hoped to have enough saved up to have the New Shelter finished years ago. At the rate she was going it would be another few years before it would be complete. Once the New Shelter was completed then Chernobyl would be safe for a hundred years. She would be able to rest much easier knowing that was completely contained.

"I would be mostly providing support?"

"Oui."

She found herself nodding. At this moment she did not trust her mouth to say anything. France gave a charming smile as he produced the proper paperwork. Ukraine found a red pen pressed into her hands. She felt dirty as she signed the treaty. America had been arguing with Russia lately that she did not need her brother to come in and take care of her, despite her money problems. But when it came down to a friend or protecting her people, there was really only one choice she could make. She just hoped she would not regret this in the long run.

"It is a pleasure to be allies, Mademoiselle."

"France, there is something I need to know. Why? Why are you and Spain allied with China and North Korea?"

France looked away from her. For the first time in this meeting his mask had dropped.

"It is a matter of family."

~Author's Notes~

If you didn't catch it, Ukraine is referring to a plan to make Chernobyl safe for about a hundred years. It was supposed to be finished in 2005. Now, it is projected to be done in 2013.

France is wearing the Troupes de marine uniform.

According to leaked documents, American diplomats defend the sovereignty of Ukraine when meeting with other diplomats, in particular Russian.

Not related to the story, but is anyone going to be attending Colossalcon?


	15. Chapter 15

China glanced down at his watch. He had been waiting here for an hour. A small amount of jealousy toward France, who got to wine and dine potential new allies, burrowed into his chest. He was stuck trying to run the captured East Coast. It gave him a headache.

Why did it have to be so much trouble to get Taiwan to move back in? That was all he wanted. He winced in pain as he shifted his weight off of the bandaged left leg. She had shot him in the Battle of Dadan Island. He knew that she would resist moving back and that South Korea would resist moving into North Korea's house, but the amount of countries getting involved with a family matter was getting ridiculous. Then again, France and Spain had been invaluable allies.

"You must be China."

China turned to look at the source of the voice. There was a man standing there in a pinstripe suit, hair slicked back and a small cell phone headset in one ear.

"You are late, aru!"

"So sorry. I just have so much work to do."

"What work? You are being occupied!"

"Yes, and you are doing it wrong."

"I am not doing it wrong, aru!"

The man laughed like he was humoring a small child. "Just keep believing that. I'm sure America will be thrilled as the civilians over throw you for him."

"Wait, what-?" China had heard stories. He envisioned a man behind every tree with a gun. Women would hide them in strollers. He would not be surprised if a gun would be put in every Happy Meal. Each child would have a derringer in their lunchbox. He should have insisted that Spain had been the one sent here.

"I can help you out."

"You will, aru?"

"It serves both of our interests. I don't want the civilian population to be hurt and you don't want to expand extra resources. Of course I won't give you any military info."

"That would be really helpful."

"Now first things first, you can't just have all your signs in English and Chinese."

"Why can't I? English is your language and Chinese is mine."

"No, no, no. You also need Spanish in many of the southern states, German in Pennsylvania, French in states bordering Canada and New Orleans, the appropriate Native American languages near the respective reservation, and don't get me started about how many languages you would need on signs in New York City."

China paled, he had been working so hard on making the signs to be put up. It looked like he would have to start all over again. "I thought English was your national language!"

"Oh no, it is the de facto language. It isn't actually official or anything. Hey, listen, if you need help with the signs, I can help you make them."

"That would be great, aru!"

"Just as long as you make sure all the other painters are part of a union."

"Union?"

"You can't hire anyone that isn't in a union. You also have to make sure that the gender and race ratio of the workers is the same as the gender and race ratio in the local populace."

China could feel his eyes glaze over as the man launched into a long drawn out lecture. It was all very confusing to him and made no logical sense. The man just kept on going and going and going. It was not until he got to the part about elephants and donkeys that China was able to get a word in edgewise.

"Aru, I never caught your name in the briefing. Are you Virginia or Maryland?"

"I'm no state. I'm insulted you would be so statist to assume I'm a state. I don't even live in a state. I'm Washington, D.C. You can just call me D.C.," the man said with the easy smile of a politician.

"Statist?"

"A statist is someone that believes a state is somehow better than a district, territory, etc." D.C. followed up with a long lecture on statism.

"Just stop already, aru!" China screamed.

~Author's Notes~

Poor China, I wouldn't want to be stuck with D.C. while he is being politically correct. Anyways, because in its founding the United States was more like each state was its own country that was united under a common government, as opposed to today where it is more of a country that is divided up into states, they did not want any state to lay claim to the nation's capital. So Washington, D.C. is not part of any state. That is my rationalization for using a city since he is a special case. Though to be honest, the real reason is because I just wanted to write this scene.


	16. Chapter 16

Canada's neck was sore, his feet hurt and his eyes itched. The document he was trying to read looked like some other language. Maybe it was Cyrillic? He took off his glasses and brought it just a touch closer to see it had resolved itself into English. He had been at this all day. He needed a break. Dropping the classified documents onto his desk, he stood up, stretched, put his glasses back on and walked out of the Spartan room, down the steps and outside.

Coffee. He needed coffee.

He lifted one foot after another. Both were clad in heavy military issue boots. As he walked he only paid enough attention to the people around him to return the salutes given to him by his soldiers. His focus was entirely on his destination. Canada slightly shivered and picked up the pace as a cold wind blew.

There was a small hop in his step as he entered into another warm building. Sitting there was the coffee pot. It wasn't Tim Hortons, but it would do. He reached for a white Styrofoam cup and filled it with the precious black liquid. Once two creams and two sugars were added he began to drink the hot beverage.

He would freely admit that he was worried. Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island had been captured and fighting was going on in New Brunswick. There was also fighting in British Columbia, but it was much bigger than the provinces under siege in the east. Since the land masses had been captured he hadn't seen personifications of Princes Edward Island or Nova Scotia. He hoped they were just caught behind enemy lines and that they weren't doing anything stupid. Between the two, he was more worried about Prince Edward Island. She was the smallest of the provinces after all.

The last drops of coffee were drained from the cup. After making sure to throw it away, he left the building. Canada was not quite ready to return to the logistical challenges of war so instead he began to walk around. Now that he had the warm coffee in his belly he welcomed the chill wind. He walked to one of the quieter parts of the base. Right now he just wanted to move and did not want to be overly bothered by salutes.

"There you are Canada."

"Do you need something?" Canada asked as he turned and smiled at the province.

"You are an idiot."

"Well, um, that wasn't exactly nice."

"How could you do this? Go to war against France and putting all of us in danger for what? And now your newest plan?"

Canada continued to smile as he watched the finger pull the trigger of the P225. He felt the 9mm round crash into his chest. It took a second before he fell to the ground. A pool of red spilled onto the ground, blooming like some kind of macabre flower. Through cracked glasses he watched the province flee. There was some kind of commotion. Looks like a member of the military police heard the gunshot and was in pursuit. He tried to call out but his voice would not work. It just sounded like a little mewling cub. It was funny really, he was shot and bleeding on the ground and he could not even get his own military to notice him. He tried again, but blackness overcame him before he could ever know if someone heard him.


	17. Chapter 17

America's heavy boots abused the floor in an arrhythmic beat as he walked down the hallway. The security in this area was second to none. So it was little surprise he was paying no attention to his surroundings. His body ached and every movement brought fresh, but minor, pain. America had forgotten how much it could hurt to fight a war on the homefront.

He came to room B216. America could find this room in his sleep by this point. He had been living in it for what felt like an eternity. He fished in his pocket for a keyring. America unlocked the door and staggered inside.

His hands came up and he began to remove the dirty fatigues pieces by piece and let them fall to the floor. America would take care of them later. Right now, he just did not want to deal with the clothing covered in dirt, blood, grease and who knew what other filth. His bare feet crossed the floor to the bathroom. The cold sent little shocks up and down his body.

America got in the shower. He turned the knob for the hot water all the way up. Lukewarm water spilled forth and began to hit his unguarded skin. He stopped just to experience the dirt being washed away from him. It lasted only for a moment. They were on water rations. Technically, America had an exemption, but he wanted to set an example. In three minutes he had washed his body and hair. America sighed when he shut off the water. He could do it in two minutes back during World War II.

He grabbed a towel and began to wipe himself off with the rough fabric. America's hair went in wild directions as he toweled it dry. He felt a million times better after that short shower. It was exactly what he had needed. Once he was mostly dry, he left the bathroom.

America stopped still. He stared at his fatigues. They were folded up neatly in a corner. His boot had been set next to them. Blue eyes were clouded in confusion. When had he done that?

"Hola, little brother," a female voice said as America was suddenly hugged very tightly.

"Mexico!"

"Si." She released her brother to smile at him.

America jumped away from her. He normally had little problem with people seeing him naked. However, his sister was a different story. A blanket was grabbed from his bed and he held it up protectively.

"Aww, you are so cute little brother," Mexico said with a bit too much affection considering the situation.

"How did you get in here? This is behind top security, guarded by elite soldiers, there is barbed wire, infrared, keycards and biometric scans needed to get here!"

"Little brother," she hugged America again, "I can always get wherever you are."


	18. Chapter 18

Before this all began…

North Korea sat on tree stump. His delicate fingers worked the keys and the holes of the metal instrument in his hands. A sorrowful song lifted up from it, skittered through the trees and off into the heavens. He had his eyes closed and seemed oblivious to the world. The only things that were real to him was the flute at his lips and the scent of the forest around him. He had no sheet music. Even if he did, it would not matter since his eyes were closed. The solemn song was being played completely by memory. When the last moments of the song came, the final notes did not want to leave. Yet, leave they did. He lowered the flute and opened his eyes.

He was facing south. Even though he could not see it, he knew that if he walked straight long enough he would come to his brother's house, the home of South Korea. It hurt every time he looked that direction. Soon, the pain would go away. He already knew how.

He cleaned his flute before putting it away. The cleaning was quick, but surprisingly thorough. His passion was the old instruments and classic arts. He was not interested in those barbaric pop songs his brother liked. In general the modern arts were inferior to the ancient ones, though he did have a secret love of James Bond movies.

With the case in hand, he rose from his seat. He was wearing his uniform. Gone was the image of the musician, now he was the soldier. He turned around and walked. It would not due to be late for his meeting with China.

He wanted to live together with his brother again. Of course it had to be under his roof. China wanted Taiwan to move back into his house. He had also called two other nations to meet with him: France and Spain. He pressed his thin lips together. North Korea had figured out exactly what buttons to push to get all three of them to join him. This was something he knew he could not do alone.

The second he would go to get his beloved brother, that idiot America would have to butt in. Of course Japan would let him do whatever he wanted. That traitorous bitch that called herself Vietnam would probably even let America use the old bases in her lands. She was supposed to be on his side. Yet, there she was threatening to let America use her resources if he tried something.

His knuckles turned white around the black handle of the flute's case.

Yes, that stupid teenager of a nation. That is why he needed China, France and Spain. Oh, North Korea knew that he could barricade his lands up and America would not be able to take them. The problem is that he would need support to force his way to South Korea's home. He did not care what it would take. He would plunge the world into war if he had to.

Family was far more important than something as little as war.

He would save South Korea from the West. He would save him from his own childish joy at life. He would save him from the traitors that called themselves the Socialist Republic of Vietnam, Japan and the Republic of China.

The corners of his thin lips turned up into a smile. Everything would be alright. After all, he knew just how important family was to China, France and Spain.

xXx

Author's Notes: I find it funny how everyone seems to forget that North Korea is one of the countries in the Militarily/Economically Aligned Nations. Anyways, this chapter was a bit of a flashback to before everything started. Boy, for being an England centric fic there sure isn't much of him lately, is there?

If anyone is confused about the Republic of China, that is Taiwan. Hetalia has a small consistency problem. You see originally Yao was depicted as the Republic of China. However in later strips all symbols associated with him being the Republic of China were removed or replaced with the ones from the People's Republic of China, which did not exist until AFTER WWII. Later, Himaruya created Taiwan which represents the Republic of China. This creates an inconsistency as she is the Republic of China, yet Yao is shown in the WWII strips.

However, there is an easy solution to his. Despite claims to the contrary, the natives and pirates that lived in Taiwan continuously pushed off attempts to control the islands by mainland China. It was only about eight or so years that China actually controlled Taiwan before handing the islands over to Japan. If interpreted in Hetalia terms as China just handing her home over to Japan and the girl staying with him, she can easily be both the islands and the Republic of China historically. Yao would be Ancient China as well as the Communist forces during the Chinese Civil War.

Sadly, I don't think the historical status of Taiwan will be addressed very much in Hetalia canon because it is still a real issue in Asia. In fact, the Chinese Civil War never ended and technically China and Taiwan are still at war with each other.


End file.
